


Cry Wolf

by badskippy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Penny Dreadful (TV), The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Dark Magic, Harry Potter References, M/M, Magic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Penny Dreadful references, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 00:10:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5269190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badskippy/pseuds/badskippy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a curse upon the House of Durin ... Thorin Durin is not what he appears to be.  Yet, his sister is at a loss as to how to end it.  So she turns to a Doctor that swears he can help.  </p><p>Only, Dis has to wonder, is Dr. Bilbo Baggins what HE seems to be?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

 

_**1892 - London, England** _

 

            It had taken everything she had to get him down here; commitment, planning, implementation, physical strength, resolve in her convictions on the situation, even deception, and lies.  She reminded herself that she had no other choice.  She convinced herself that it was right.  She told herself over and over that she was strong; she couldn’t let herself waiver, she had to complete her task least she lose one of few things she could ill afford to lose.

            And yet, she couldn’t help but quake at the horror to come.

            She couldn’t help but despair that their torment must continue.

            She couldn’t help but feel quilt at her decision.

            She couldn’t help but cry in her shame.   

            She couldn’t help but feel lost as she clamped the heavy iron cuffs about Thorin’s wrists.

            Distant chimes of the long-case clock in the upstairs hallway told her she was running out of time.  And time knelt before no man.

            Or woman.

            “Don’t … do this,” Thorin slurred; the drug clearly wearing off.

            “I’m sorry,” she choked out through her tears.

            “If you … have any … pity … for me—”

            “I love you.”

            “—you won’t … do this.”

            “I have no other choice.”

            “Yes … yes, you do.”

            True, she did.  Yet, while Dis Durin was more willing to do anything, no matter how repugnant or contemptible, especially if it meant one more day of hoping, praying, searching for an answer, there was still one thing above it all she _wouldn’t_ do, ever; she wouldn’t take her brother’s life.

            She’d be damned before she’d do that.

            Taking a deep, determined breath, she made we way about the stone basement, checking the thick-glassed windows, set high on the walls, making sure they were locked, bars in place.  They weren’t near Thorin; he was at the far end, situated in a deep, arched alcove that had been a wine cellar of sorts, many years before; it housed something far more dangerous now. But far or not, she checked the windows nonetheless, lest someone hear, see, or, god forbid, enter, while Thorin was down here alone.

            “You can’t leave me like this,” Thorin barked, fully awake.

            Dis said nothing, as she straightened her shoulders and walked towards the stairs; it was almost time.

            “Dis!” Thorin cried.

            She almost stopped but she refused to turn; she’d give in if she looked him in the eye.

            “Dis!” Thorin snapped.  “You can’t leave me here!”

            She heard the clock chime the fifteen-minute mark; she had to hurry.

            “DON’T DO THIS TO ME!” Thorin snarled, rattling the chains as he struggled against his restraints.  “DIS!”

            As she stepped upon the upper landing, she reached for the door, pointedly ignoring Thorin’s pleas.

            “DIS, PLEASE!”

            “I’m sorry, darling,” Dis whispered loudly as she slowly pushed the heavy iron door closed; she could see the moonlight beginning to brighten the cellar below.

            “DIS!”  Thorin roared. “DIS, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, I BEG YOU!”

            As the door closed, she could hear Thorin’s screams as the horror took him. She cried her tears, even as she secured the lock and pocketed the only key; walking away from the nightmare on the other side.

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            She sat alone in the great room, holding a glass of wine but not drinking it. The great hearth ablaze with fire, but still she felt cold.  Not the kind of cold one felt with the weather but the sort one feels deep down in their bones. She was weary, tired, worn out and she wondered, not for the first time, how long she could continue. How many more nights, like tonight, would she have to endure?

            _As many as are needed,_ she answered herself.

            “Mummy?”

            Dis turned in her seat and saw Kili standing in the doorway.

            “Why are you out of bed, sweetie?”

            “Can I sit with you?”

            “Of course,” Dis said and Kili hurried to her.  “What’s the matter, darling?”

            “I dreamed a monster was going to get me,” Kili whispered, snuggling close and hiding his face.

            “Oh, sweetheart,” Dis moved to cradle the eight-year-old to her. “Dreams can’t harm us, love.”

            Kili sniffled.  “It seemed real.”

            “Many times dreams do, but they aren’t.”

            Kili clung to his mother, gladly sinking into her warmth. Dis rocked her youngest slowly side to side until she could feel him relax.

            “Do you feel better?”

            Kili nodded.

            “You try and sleep now.”

            “You won’t let the monster get me?”

            “There are no such things as monsters, sweetie.”

            Even as Kili cuddled close, faithfully believing his mother’s words, Dis wondered if she could ever come to believe them too?

_There are no such things as monsters._

_There are no such things as monsters._

_There are no such things as monsters._

            Dis repeated her words over and over in her mind, even as she heard a great howl; a wolf baying at the moon.

 

 

 TBC

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

 

            Dis balanced the food-laden tray on her hip while with one hand, while with the other she pulled out the heavy key for the cellar’s iron door. As she swung the door open, she could smell the slight tang of sweat in the air; it was subtle but there.

            She descended the stairs quietly, the heels of her shoes barely making a sound as she stepped. She didn’t call out her brother’s name to see if he was awake, nor did she extend a greeting; she doubted it would be received well anyhow.

            Shafts of dim, morning light illuminated the pale swirl of dust that hung in the cellar’s air, causing Dis’ vision to seem blurred and unfocused.

            But her mind was sharp in contrast. It had to be.

            “Come to feed your pet,” Thorin growled from the shadows of the far corner.

            “No,” Dis replied calmly. “I'm bringing my beloved brother his breakfast.”

            “Brother,” Thorin snarled. “What kind of sibling would allow their brother to endure this hell? Were that title true, you’d end my suffering.”

            Dis set the tray on the ground, just over the line of safety. “My only wish is to end your suffering.”

            “LIAR!” Thorin roared and lunged forward.

            Dis fled back a few steps but she didn’t turn away. Thorin stood now in a shaft of light, his shirt open to the waist and torn, the hair on his chest wet with sweat as was his face, dirty though it was, his hair a shaggy mane about his face, and his beard unkempt and untrimmed. For all the world, he looked like a beast in a nightmarish fairy tale; the assessment not too far from the truth.

            “This is no ending but a torturous continuation!”

            “Thorin … I only want—”

            “Release me.”

            Dis couldn’t take that chance. “If I did that—”

            “ _Release me_.”

            “—you’d only take your own life.” 

            “RELEASE ME!”

            “No.”

            Thorin growled, gnashing his teeth, and struggled against the heavy chains that bound him. He pulled and yanked, straining in his attempt, his wrists bled, and his grappling caused him to kick the tray of food across the floor, spilling his contents upon the rough stone.

            The chains would not give.

            “I swear if you don’t let me go …”

            “What will you do?”

            Dis’ whispered question stilled Thorin and both siblings stood for a long stretch of seconds, staring at each other.

            Dis broke the silence. “Will you kill me?”

            Thorin eyes widened at the suggestion.

            “Take lives of your nephews?”

            Thorin looked pained. “I would _never_ hurt them!”

            Dis laughed without humor. “Do you fool yourself into thinking that your death would not hurt them?”

            “My death would protect them!”

            “IT WILL DESTROY THEM!” Dis bellowed, feeling as crazed in her conviction to cure Thorin as Thorin was in his desire for oblivion.   “Your death will bring them no end of misery.”

            Dis was done. She turned and walked away.

            “Dis,” Thorin pleaded quietly from behind.

            She didn’t turn.

            “I beg you.” Thorin’s voice cracked.

            So too did a bit of Dis’ heart. Yet she still didn’t turn to face him.

            “I can’t go on like this.”

            Dis stopped on the top of the stairs. “I’ll bring you another tray—”

            “Dis … please.”

            “—at lunch.” 

            It was only as she closed the iron door, did Dis finally allow her tears to fall; it was only natural as she heard Thorin weeping in his despair.

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            “May I have more, Mummy?” Kili said, holding out his empty bowl.

            “Of course, sweetie,” Dis said, setting the morning paper down, getting up and turning to the server, ladling more porridge into Kili’s dish and then topping the sweet oats with blackcurrants; Dis thought them far too tart, but Kili loved them.

            “Any more sausages?” Fili asked around a generous bite of toast.

            “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Dis said with a smile. “But yes, there are.” She placed Kili’s bowl down, which the youngster dug into immediately, and picked up Fili’s plate to load it full of the warm meats.

            Dis sat back down and began to read once more. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for and frankly, she wasn’t sure there could be anything done for her brother.

            She’d tried herself but to no avail. Digging through many of her great-grandmother’s journals, now so old they almost fell apart at her touch, Dis had made countless draughts and elixirs, powders and mixtures, ointments and salves; nothing worked.

            She brought in mediums and mystics, who carried out séances and tarot readings, contacted and channeled spirits, and some even flung themselves in and out of trances, all in a vain attempt to get to the root of the issue.

            Nothing.

            Not a single one changed a thing.

            Finally, Dis turned from spirits to science. She contacted doctors of all sorts, from psychiatrists to medical. Blood was drawn, tests were run, x-rays and examinations were conducted, but still, no one came even remotely close to an answer.

            One ‘good doctor’, and Dis used the term loosely, stated that Thorin was ‘clearly’ suffering from sexual frustration and perversion and strongly urged Dis to allow him to castrate Thorin and thus ‘cure’ her brother of all that ailed him. She was very tempted to lock the man in the cellar with Thorin at the next full moon.   

            When the conventional doctors failed her, Dis turned to the unconventional ones. Most scoffed at her. Either they didn’t believe her, had dubious credentials or were outright frauds; those simply attempting to capitalize on the current craze of the occult. Only two had actually shown any true interest or promise and came to the house, eager to help.   They didn't.

            As she scanned the paper, looking for someone, something - _anything_ \- that might be of help, she sat up straight, a gasp almost escaping, as her eye caught a large ad, right in the middle of the page, that she had missed previously.

            How could she have missed it?

            "Are you all right, Mum?" Fili asked, cocking his head to one side and giving Dis a narrowed look.

            She shook herself and smiled. "Fine. Just thought of something."

            "What did you think of?" Kili asked, doe-eyed and curious.

            "Nothing important." She shrugged, not dropping her smile. "Are you both finished?"

            "Yes," Fili said as both he and his brother nodded.

            "Then why don't you get ready," Dis said. "Mister Ryland will be here soon for your lessons."

            Both nodded again and left the table. They didn't like lessons but they did like Mister Ryland; he'd been the only tutor to last more than a few months.

            With her boys gone, Dis turned back to the paper. The ad was oddly bolded and there was a sketch of a snarling wolf.

 

_________________________________________

Do you **FEAR** the night

Does **THE FULL MOON** fill you with terror **?**

Then **CONTACT**

**DR BILBO BAGGINS**

111 Bag Shot Row

Mayfair

London W

No Appointment Required

Walk-ins Welcomed

_________________________________________

 

 

TBC

 

 

 


End file.
